


Say That You're in Control

by bookl0ver



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Angst, Body Image, Don't copy to another site, Eating Disorders, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25079461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookl0ver/pseuds/bookl0ver
Summary: Callum doesn't deal well with the relationship weight he gains, or Ben's affectionate teasing. Soon, a small insecurity is rapidly spiralling out of control.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Comments: 20
Kudos: 62





	Say That You're in Control

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for clicking!
> 
> Warnings: EATING DISORDER - Disordered eating, negative body image, self-deprecation, weight and calorie counting. 
> 
> If any of this may be triggering to you please, Please do not read this. 
> 
> \- Enioy!

The table was set, candles flickering softly, and two plates of freshly made chicken pasta steamed as Callum waited for Ben to return home from work. He had had the day off, and decided to do something special. Although chicken pasta was something of a staple dish of their relationship and he made it semi-regularly, he also knew that Ben loved it. The candles and soft music playing throughout the flat were different though. 

Ben strolled in, face lighting up as soon as he spotted Callum, and growing even brighter at the sight of the romantic dinner. 

“Callum, what’s all this in aid of?” Ben planted a kiss on Callum’s lips before sitting down opposite him.

“My handsome boyfriend’s been working all day, least I could do is spoil you a bit.” Callum replied, smiling softly as Ben eagerly picked up his cutlery and ate a large mouthful. 

“Mmm,” Ben moaned. Callum’s cooking was always great, and having skipped lunch, the chicken pasta hit the spot perfectly. “God, what did I do deserve you?” 

Giggling, Callum also began eating. Comfortable silence descended between them as they ate. With his plate only half empty, Ben had to stop, removing his belt and unfastening his trousers to accommodate his full stomach. He raised his eyebrow as Callum continued to dig in, cleaning his plate completely. 

“You gonna finish that?” Callum gestured towards Ben’s plate with his fork. 

Shaking his head, Ben passed the plate over to Callum, surprised at the way his boyfriend carried on eating. 

“You not been fed today babe?” Ben asked. He knew Callum had a big appetite but he’d eaten more than enough for a grown man. 

“Course I have. Been home all day ain’t I, cooked myself a nice lunch. Why?” 

“You’re eating enough for two.” Ben laughed, gesturing to the two empty plates. “If you were a bird, I’d reckon you were pregnant.” 

Callum stood up and grabbed the dishes, carrying them to the sink. He stood washing up, Ben’s words echoing through his head. 

Was he eating too much? He could’ve sworn it was a healthy amount. He didn’t feel sick, or bloated. In fact, he had room for some ice cream... maybe he was eating too much. With a sigh, he placed the dishes in the drying rack and returned to where Ben was now lounging on the sofa. He sank down beside him, Ben immediately laying his head on his stomach.

They watched TV in companionable silence, Callum’s hand carding through Ben’s hair softly, Ben’s hand resting on and occasionally squeezing Callum’s thighs. As the clock ticked to eleven a soft snore filled the room. 

Eyes closed and mouth open, Ben had fallen asleep on Callum, leaving his boyfriend very amused. Only when a small puddle of drool escaped onto Callum’s jeans did he shake his boyfriend awake. 

“Comfy down there were you?” Callum grinned as Ben turned to look up at him, eyes red from falling asleep with his contacts in. 

“You’re just so soft and comfortable.” Ben retorted, standing up and heading to the bathroom to remove his contacts. “Got a chubby belly, perfect pillow.” 

The smile fell from Callum’s face and he looked down at himself. Chubby? 

Later that night Callum found himself unable to sleep. He kept looking down at his bare stomach, the way it rose and fell as he breathed. He couldn’t see his privates or tops of his legs over the curve of it when he inhaled. With a sigh he climbed out of bed and stood in the bathroom, in front of the supposedly full-length mirror. It stopped at Callum’s neck, but it served its purpose. 

He stared at his naked body, feeling unease and disgust rising in him. Once lean muscle had given way to soft curves, love handles and a muffin-top in place of his trim hips. There was even the faint stripe of stretch marks, seeming like beacons to his recent weight gain. How did he get so... soft, so jiggly? So fat? 

The word flashed through his mind like an alarm, bright lights and sirens blaring out. 

Fat. Fat. Fat. 

He was fat. 

When Ben awoke the bed was cold, Callum’s space empty. Groaning, he turned to grab his phone, and saw a note stuck to it. 

_Gone for a run. Will make you breakfast when I’m back – Cal ♡_

Ben groaned, checking the time and seeing it was only half past six in the morning. Callum didn’t need to be up for another hour, and he never usually went for a run in the morning, preferring to run in the chill of the evening, when there’s a pleasant amount of hustle and bustle to distract him from the – frankly overwhelming – monotony of running around the same park several times. Over the past couple of days since Callum made him chicken pasta his boyfriend had been running in the mornings and evenings every day. It was a bit weird, but he wasn’t going to complain if Callum wanted to get fitter. Maybe Ben would get to reap the benefits of his boyfriend's new exercise regime in the bedroom. Grinning at the thought, he rolled over and returned to sleep, cuddling Callum’s pillow. 

After returning from his run and rousing Ben Callum set about cooking breakfast. Bacon crisping nicely in one pan, eggs frying in another, and toast sitting in the toaster. It smelled heavenly, Callum’s stomach growling and mouth watering with every inhale. He went to grab more food to cook for himself, before abruptly shaking his head. He didn’t need any fried food; he was fat enough already. 

A plate of eggs, bacon and toast was placed in front of Ben, who immediately dug in. Callum sat opposite him, drinking a glass of water. 

“Where’s your breakfast babe?” Ben asked through a mouthful of food. Callum was always lecturing him about the value of a good breakfast, knowing that when Ben was left to his own devices breakfast usually wound up being sugary cereal or a microwaveable bit of pastry. 

Callum frowned. “Not hungry. I’ll have something at work.” 

Pausing slightly, Ben took Callum’s expression in. Something didn’t feel right. Over the last couple of days Callum had gone from his usual fry up, to a bit of toast, and now nothing. He was about to ask when he noticed the time, and realised he needed to leave soon if he wanted to avoid his dad’s wrath and be on time. Shovelling the rest of the food into his mouth, he gave Callum a peck on the forehead and hurried out of the door. 

All throughout his shift at the parlour Callum’s stomach rumbled. It was a relief that Jay wasn’t in, having to cover the Car Lot so Ben could work at the Arches. It still baffled Callum how ready to drop and change things Ben and Jay were to please Phil. 

A woman came in to talk about planning her own funeral, and Callum welcomed the distraction from his rumbling stomach. As they sat and discussed flowers, music and coffins, his stomach growled loudly, sending his face flushing as the woman looked at him in concern. 

“Have you not eaten dear?” She asked. 

Heat radiated from his very pink face, and Callum looked down embarrassed. 

“It’s nearly my lunch break,” He offered as an explanation. “Now, the lilies, would you-" 

“A lunch break at three o’clock in the afternoon dear? Why, it’s almost dinner time!” She wiggled her finger at him. “You’re a big lad, you need your food.” 

Big. He was a big lad, she was right about that. Too big. 

Shaking his head, he shot her a forced smile and returned the conversation to the funeral arrangements, eventually sorting out all of the details. As he escorted her to the door, she rifled through her handbag, pulling out a chocolate bar. 

“Here dear, have this. Sounds as though you need it. My grandson is just the same you know. Works ridiculous hours, doesn’t eat enough, so I keep some treats on me. You strapping young men need your sustenance.” 

With a blush he took the chocolate bar and waved goodbye, quickly returning to his desk, staring at the wrapper. He read the nutrition info, cringing at the number of calories and amount of fat and sugar in the bar. Shaking his head, he pushed it into the bin and retrieved a glass of water. For the rest of his shift he ignored the way his stomach continued to growl. 

By the evening he was exhausted, head aching as he trudged up the stairs to the flat. Dread filled him as he walked in to the smell of something cooking. 

Stood in the kitchen, adorned in an apron that boldly requested any onlookers to ‘kiss the cook’ was Ben, playing on his phone whilst the food cooked. At the sound of the door he looked up, grinning at his boyfriend. The expression fell when he noticed just how drained Callum looked. 

“You alright?” He asked, leaving his phone to pull Callum into a hug. Callum sank into him, and Ben found himself supporting most of his weight. 

“You falling asleep on me now?” He laughed. “Think you’re a bit too heavy for that babe.” 

Breath hitching, Callum stood up abruptly, tears filling his eyes. So Ben did think he was too big. 

“I made you lasagne and chips, my speciality,” Ben continued, returning to the kitchen now that Callum seemed more awake. “Hope you’re hungry.” 

Wiping away the tears whilst Ben’s back was turned, Callum kicked off his shoes and coat, avoiding a response. He headed into the bathroom, where he stripped off and stood in front of the mirror again. Had anything changed? He couldn’t help but think he looked even fatter now than he did last night. Maybe he’d drank too much water. 

As he turned on the shower, he spotted a set of scales under a counter. They weren’t his, and Stuart couldn’t care less about his weight as long as he wasn’t actively dying, so he assumed they were Rainie's. Curious, he pulled them out and stood on them. Bile rose in his throat as he read the number on the display. 

He jumped in the shower, trying to forget the number that echoed in his head. He couldn’t believe he weighed that much. He’d never weighed that much before. How much weight had he gained recently? 

Sitting opposite Ben once more, wrapped in Ben’s dressing gown that was starting to stay at the flat more days than not, Callum felt miserable. Ben was regaling him with a tale of an irate customer from the day, and how he had watched Dotty give her some grade A sass. Not that Callum was taking in a word, too focused on ignoring the pangs of hunger that were starting to hurt a bit. He glanced at the time, noticing it had been well over twenty-four hours since he had last eaten. Despite the pain, he felt proud. He wasn’t greedy or insatiable, he did have self-control. 

Still, he thought, best not to risk it. This led to him chasing his food around with his knife and fork, nodding and humming along to Ben’s words in the right places. Once Ben finished his food Callum was up in an instant, taking their plates to the kitchen. 

He’d scraped his dinner straight into the bin, and began washing up before he noticed Ben stood staring at him. 

“Didn’t you like it?” Ben asked, voice low. The hurt on his face was clear, and guilt coiled in Callum’s stomach. 

“Course I did,” Callum replied instantly, turning back to the washing up so he didn’t have to meet Ben’s piercing stare. Those beautiful eyes could see right through him, just as they always had. “Just had a big lunch. Wasn’t hungry.” 

“But you binned it. You never bin food.” Ben approached him and Callum tensed. He knew Ben wouldn’t approve of him not eating, would simply lie and tell Callum that he was beautiful and sexy, and all the other things Callum was beginning to realise weren’t true. It began to play on him that maybe Ben wasn’t even attracted to him anymore, was only here out of a sense of obligation. He knew he wasn’t as slim and ‘sexy' – to use Ben’s words – as he had been when they first got together all those months ago. 

“Chips taste like shit reheated.” The sponge in his hand was squeezed tightly under the water, but he shrugged, voice light. 

“And the lasagne?” Ben continued, hands resting on Callum’s hips, pulling to try and turn him around. Callum pushed him off and carried on scrubbing harshly at the plates. 

“There was nothing wrong with any of it Ben. I love that you cooked for me, I’m just not hungry, that’s all.” 

“Then turn around and look me in the eye while you say that,” Ben challenged, grabbing Callum’s arms from behind. With a sigh, Callum complied, forcing himself to look into Ben’s eyes as he repeated his words. 

Still slightly suspicious, Ben nodded and left the kitchen, informing Callum that he was tired and heading to bed. Callum had planted a quick kiss on his head before returning to the sink, slumping down against it. A shuddering breath escaped him. It was bad enough that he’d let his body get so bad, he couldn’t risk arguing with Ben and losing the relationship too. 

Once the dishes were done, he set about tidying up the rest of the flat, preferring to wake up to a clean environment. He tried to ignore the little voice that told him he needed to clean up, needed to prove to Ben that he was worth keeping around, still worthy of him. As he debated whether he should run the duster round the coffee table before he went to bed his world began to spin, and he crumpled against the sofa, holding onto it tightly. 

After several agonising seconds the world stilled and Callum blinked, breathing rapidly. He pulled himself up onto shaking legs, and decided to head to bed. 

Suit neatly hung up for tomorrow, Callum pulled on a t-shirt to sleep in. Usually he preferred sleeping nude, enjoyed the feeling of cool air on his warm skin, but tonight he felt like covering himself up. 

Exhaustion swept over him as soon as his head hit the pillow and he was out. 

Beside him, Ben cracked an eye open once he was certain that Callum had gone to sleep. His boyfriend only ever wore clothes to bed when it was cold, preferring to have bare arms and legs hanging out of the bed if it was even mildly warm. Ben was always cold, cocooning himself in the blankets, snuggling up to Callum, absorbing the heat emitting from his boyfriend’s fair skin. 

Something wasn’t right, he decided. A sound reverberated through the room and Ben jumped, looking around for the source. He pulled on his glasses, searching, but nothing had moved. Just as he was about to relax, he heard it again, and realised where it was coming from. 

Callum’s stomach was rumbling. 

The fact that he could hear it without his hearing aid shocked him, and he shuffled closer to Callum, head resting over his stomach, double checking he was right. A third rumble confirmed his suspicions. 

He’d never known a stomach to make so much noise, especially when Callum was supposedly full only an hour or so ago. A frown formed on his face, as he took his boyfriend in. Compared to how bright he’d always known him to look, skin aglow and eyes sparkling, the difference was stark. Pale, dull skin and slumped shoulders, even in his sleep. 

Whatever was going on, Ben was determined to figure it out before it got any worse. 

The following morning was tense, Callum on edge, desperate to please Ben. Straight after the run he had forced himself on, nearly passing out in the park before returning home, he set about cooking. Breakfast had once again been presented smack on time, coffee made just the way Ben liked it. Ben wanted to enjoy it, but he couldn’t help being suspicious, last night’s observations still buzzing in his head. 

Once again Callum sat opposite him, a black coffee in his mug. He sipped it, grimacing with every touch of the bitter liquid to his tongue, and asked Ben about his plans for the day. 

“Car lot, Dotty's got the Arches covered, so you’ve got Jay back.” Panic sparked in Callum’s stomach. He couldn’t hide not eating all day from Jay, his friend was incredibly observant. 

Ben raised an eyebrow at the flash across Callum’s face. “Thought you’d be pleased, must be boring sitting in there all day surrounded by death and nothing else.” 

Shifting uncomfortably, Callum rose, pouring away his coffee and washing his mug instead of answering. He ignored the way his body ached, stomach practically warbling with hunger. He couldn’t deny that he was starving, but when he’d stood on the scales this morning there had been no change. Some weight needed to come off before he deserved to eat again, he decided. 

But he couldn’t exactly tell Ben that. He knew Ben, with his confidence and pride in his own body would never understand. They’d talked about their pasts, and Ben had told him he’d always felt happy about his body. Sure, he’d been a bit of a chubby kid, but ever since he was a teenager he’d had no problem attracting people, and considered himself very physically attractive. Ben was stunning, fit, the perfect man. He could never understand what it felt like to be so much lesser. 

The door slammed shut behind Callum as he headed down to funeral parlour after planting a kiss on Ben’s head. As soon as he was gone, Ben grabbed his phone, dialling his brother’s number. 

Throughout the work day Callum slapped on a smile and wore his kind, gentle, slightly dopey persona like a costume, masking how close he felt to snapping. Jay was hovering around him, sitting close by and constantly asking after his wellbeing. It would be sweet and encouraging, affirming of their friendship if Callum didn’t actually have something to hide. 

Midday rolled around and Jay stood up, taking the pen out of Callum’s hand. 

“We’re both having lunch at the cafe. Come on, my shout.” 

Callum raised his eyebrows, panic filling him. Jay had heard his belly rumbling and commented on it several times. He’d deflected that he’d eat at lunch, when Jay usually rushed off to be with Lola for an hour. There was no way he could avoid eating without making Jay suspicious. Or, more suspicious. 

The look on Jay’s face showed that he wasn’t going to accept any arguments, so he reluctantly rose, following Jay silently over to the cafe. Once there, Jay sent him to sit down and ordered them both fry ups. 

Callum’s stomach turned at the thought of the greasy but delicious food. Every one of his senses was bombarded as he soon as he had walked in the door; aromas of fat and meat filling his nose, the sizzling of fried food attacking his ears, people tucking in heartily taunting his vision. His stomach rumbled once more, loud enough to catch the attention of the people at the next table, who raised their eyebrows at him as he blushed. 

Jay sat opposite him, face schooled into an open expression. “You alright Cal? You’ve been a bit off today. And you’re clearly starving, but you haven’t even asked to go get some food. Do you think I wouldn’t let ya or something?” 

Face buried in his hands, Callum sighed. Maybe, maybe Jay would understand. He’d heard his friend talk about trying to bulk up, feeling too skinny and unattractive. Deciding it was better than lying, at least for now, he told Jay everything. 

The regret was instant as he watched Jay’s expression contort into shock, then horror and finally settle on concern. 

“Cal, mate...” Jay tried to form a response. Before he could, Kathy placed their plates in front of them. An extra plate of toast was put in front of Callum. 

“Know how much you love your food Cal,” She smiled, clapping a hand on his shoulder as she walked away. 

“See?” He hissed at Jay. “Even she thinks I eat too much.” 

“That ain’t what she said tho-" 

“She’s specifically made me extra, Jay. Because I’m greedy, and I eat too much, and it’s made me fat.”

Jay shook his head, having gone off of his food himself. “Will you just eat some, please? You’re clearly hungry.” 

Callum stared down at the food, eyes darting as he tried to think what the least fattening thing was. Baked beans were good for you, counted as one of your five a day, he was sure. With a shaky hand he gripped his fork and scooped up some beans, and slowly forced them into his mouth. He glanced up and saw Jay watching him intently as he chewed. He cocked his head, and felt anger build in his stomach at the expectant look on Jay’s face. 

Rolling his eyes, he swallowed thickly. “See? Gone. You wanna check?” 

Jay shook his head, tucking into his food. “One forkful of beans ain’t a meal Callum.” 

Silence fell between them, Callum staring mournfully at his food whilst Jay slowly ate his. Every time Callum looked up, Jay was watching him, concern etched into his face. 

“You’ve gotta tell Ben.” 

Callum’s head snapped up. “I can’t. He’ll...”

“He’ll what? Make you eat, like I am, like you should be? Or tell you that he loves you, that he fancies you? Cos he really does Cal, god he talks about how fit he finds you so much.” 

Callum stayed quiet, searching out the lie in Jay’s words. 

“Either you tell him, or I will. And whatever reaction you’re afraid of, it’ll be a lot worse if he finds out from me.” 

“Jay plea-" Callum opened his mouth to ask, beg even, for Jay’s silence. 

“He’s my brother,” Jay set his cutlery down, leaning forward and catching Callum’s wrist. “I will not let his boyfriend starve himself to death, and I won’t keep secrets from him, understand? So tell him, tonight, or I will.” 

Pulling his wrist from Jay’s grip, Callum stood up. “Where you going?” Jay asked around a mouthful of food. 

“To talk to my boyfriend, since you’re not giving me a choice.” Callum snapped back, storming out of the café, barely acknowledging Kathy’s goodbye. 

Panic was contorting his stomach and chest, rising, and Callum felt sick. The mouthful of beans had only made the pain worse, his body demanding more food. More food that he didn’t deserve. Bile rose in his throat at the thought of Ben knowing, seeing just how weak and ugly he was. Jay would tell him, Callum knew. He couldn’t even find it in him to be angry. It was his own fault for telling Jay, for thinking their friendship would ever outweigh his loyalty to his brother. 

The thought of packing a bag and running away, avoiding the inevitable confrontation with Ben was seeming more and more enticing with each passing second. Ben wouldn’t mind, surely. He’d be better off, without a fat, insecure, messed up freak like Callum. 

As he turned to head back to the flat, to pack a bag and leave, just long enough for Ben to give up on him, familiar hands wrapped around his waist. He jumped, turning in the grip to find Ben’s face peering up at him. 

“Afternoon handsome,” Ben chirped, linking his hands around Callum’s neck to pull him down into a kiss. “What’re you doing out here, looking like a lost lamb?” 

Callum blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of the tears in his eyes, to stop his body shivering before Ben realised. The brightness on Ben’s face dulled, and Callum realised he hadn’t been quick enough. 

“I err, just had a massive lunch with Jay.” Callum cleared his throat, voice coming out wobbly and strained. “Was just on me way back to the parlour now.” 

Ben raised an eyebrow at him, expression turning to a poker-face as he watched Callum carefully. Callum felt like he was being studied, hated it and ducked out of Ben’s grip. 

“Right, well, I’ll see you tonight,” He stumbled over his words, eager to get away from Ben’s piercing stare, those beautiful eyes that practically begged for his honesty. “Love you.” 

He turned and hurried back to the parlour, running up to the flat as soon as he could. Locking the door behind him, he immediately ran to the bathroom, throwing his clothes to the floor and pulling out the scales. 

His eyes bored into the numbers as they rose then stopped. He let out a huff of joy as the number stilled. 

Two pounds! Two whole pounds off. 

Giddy with happiness, he kicked the scales back under the counter and hurriedly redressed. The number showed that he was right, this was working. Soon, he’d be back to how he was when Ben had fallen for him, and then there’d be nothing to worry about. Once he was worthy of Ben again, then none of this would matter. 

He returned to the parlour, where Jay was sat behind the desk, papers spread in front of him. Jay shot to his feet when he spotted Callum. 

“Look, you’re my mate and I don’t wanna threaten you, but you need to tell Ben, okay? It’s for your own good.” 

The smile fell from Callum’s lips, remembering what had made him so upset in the first place. 

“No Jay, listen mate.” He needed to explain. If Jay understood that what he was doing was working, then he’d understand that Callum needed to continue. Surely. “Look, I’ve already lost two pounds, and it really wasn’t that hard. Just a couple more weeks and I’ll be back to the weight I was when Ben fancied me, and everything'll be okay!”

Jay shook his head, sitting back down slowly. “Callum,” He said gently, the way you would a frightened child. “Mate, you’re bordering on an eating disorder. It ain’t healthy.” 

Callum scoffed. “Don’t be so daft, only women get eating disorders.” Men didn’t get eating disorders, it was a woman thing. He’d never heard of a man having an eating disorder. The only person he’d ever met with one was Honey, which proved his point. 

Jay’s mouth dropped open then clicked closed. “You know you’re talking like your old man, don’t ya?” 

The question sent Callum reeling and he took a step back, mind trying to understand what the hell Jay meant. He wasn’t like his dad, and Jay knew that. He was just trying to make him feel guilty! 

“I ain’t nothing like him,” Callum said, breathing deeply to calm himself. “I ain’t a bigot.” 

“No, but you are ignorant.” Jay snapped back, pulling out his phone and typing frantically. Callum caught the movement and stepped forward again, reaching for the phone. 

“What are you doing? Are you texting Ben?” 

Jay stepped out of his reach and glared at him before turning the phone so he could see. He snatched it and froze at the page. 

**National Centre for Eating Disorders**

 **Eating Disorders in Males**

Callum’s eyes flitted over the words, taking in the statistics. 

**Males represent 25% of individuals with anorexia nervosa**

Shaking slightly he read over the signs and symptoms, and the possible consequences. Bile rose in his throat and he chucked Jay’s phone at him and darted out of the building, ignoring Jay calling after him. 

He carried on running, not caring that he was in his suit, that he didn’t have his wallet and had no idea where he was going. All he could think was he needed to get away. Far, far away. 

Unfortunately, for the second time today Ben appeared in front of him, and despite his attempts to swerve round him and keep going, Ben’s arms wrapped around his waist and held him fast. 

His mind was racing, he wasn’t even aware of the tears rolling down his face and sobs escaping him as his brain tried to deal with what Jay had shown him. Part of him tried to repress it, like he had with the trauma of the army and his sexuality, while another part screamed at him that he was a fucking idiot for thinking he could actually be healthy by not eating. And a third part, a tiny, tempting little voice whispered that he shouldn’t listen to Jay, that he was fat and if he ever wanted to make Ben happy, he needed to lose weight. Never eat again, if necessary.

When he became aware of his surroundings again he was in the Arches, in Ben’s desk chair with his boyfriend stood anxiously over him. Guilt surged as he caught the look of concern and fear on Ben’s face. 

“Callum.” Oh no. Callum knew that voice. Whatever was coming, it was going to be serious. 

“Look, I’ve got to get back to the parlour, let’s talk about this lat-" 

“No!” Callum jumped as Ben’s voice echoed in the empty garage. “You’ve been avoiding talking to me for the last couple of days. I know what you’ve been doing Callum.” 

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” Callum said, trying one of Ben’s go-to methods. He folded his arms across his chest and tried to ignore the way the confession clawed at his throat. He didn’t want to feel like he was walking on egg shells. 

“Don’t use my line on me,” Ben said, not even softening for what he recognised as Callum’s approximation of Ben in a mood. This was too serious. “Jay told me.” 

The air left Callum’s lungs. Ben knew. He knew how pathetic Callum was, the desperate lengths he’d gone to, how disgusting he was. He needed to get out of here, away from Ben, he didn’t want to see whatever love and affection Ben still had for him leave his eyes. 

He shot up, managing a step before dizziness overcame him and he stumbled sideways, knees buckling. Only Ben’s arms wrapping around him and pulling him against his chest stopped his body from crashing to the floor. 

Tears fell down Callum’s cheeks as he registered just how weak he was. Lead seemed to have replaced his limbs, he could barely lift them. Opening his eyes was a colossal effort and when he did the room span even worse. 

“It’s okay Cal, it’s okay,” Ben’s voice reached his ears through the static, soft stroke of his hand combing through his hair. It made Callum boneless, his body moulding against Ben’s as he cried. 

He was so tired. 

A distressed noise escaped him when Ben pulled him onto his feet, fingers clutching into Ben’s back as he swayed. As gently as he could, Ben lowered Callum back into the desk chair, sitting himself down on the desk. 

“Talk to me Callum.” He said, staring at his boyfriend helplessly. Something had been wrong for the last couple of weeks, he’d known that – Callum had been eating less, working out more, being overly affectionate and extra snappy simultaneously. The conversation with Jay, his brother rapidly telling him that Callum was deliberately not eating because he felt fat and unlovable had broken his heart, and finding Callum crying as he ran away had almost crushed him. Now all he wanted was his boyfriend to confide in him so he could reassure him. 

Callum stared at the floor, focused on Ben’s shifting feet. “I- It’s stupid Ben. Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.” 

Groaning, Ben grabbed Callum’s shoulder in one hand and his chin in the other, tilting it to make Callum meet his eyes. He was beginning to appreciate just how difficult he must have been for Callum to deal with every time he’d hidden things and thrown a strop. Really, Callum should be made a saint for putting up with him. 

“Babe. It’s just us here,” He gestured at the empty garage. “You and me. And we don’t keep secrets, do we? Not between us.” 

Shame burned in Callum’s gut at the worry shining in Ben’s eyes. The warbling of his empty stomach was nothing compared to the pain of causing Ben grief. Not only was he fat but he was an awful boyfriend. Good boyfriends didn’t make their partners worry, didn’t keep secrets from them, force them to find them in the midst of a breakdown- 

“Stop that. I know what you’re doing Callum. Look at me.” Ben’s voice was warm, filled with love and comfort and Callum reluctantly met his eyes, expecting to see disgust shining in them. 

“Whatever’s going in in there,” he paused to press a soft kiss to Callum’s forehead, “I just want to help, okay? You’ve never judged me, trust me not to judge you.” 

The earnestness of Ben’s face, expression open and eyes full of love broke Callum’s resolve and he nodded, gripping Ben’s hands and holding them over his face. 

“I’ve been feeling – thinking, for a while now, a least a couple of weeks and it wasn’t a big deal, I swear, I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand I promise, I just-" 

The words were coming quickly but they made no sense, fragmented and half-formed. With a sigh of frustration he pulled Ben to him, tugging on his hand until Ben got the hint to wrap his arms around Callum again. Nuzzling Ben’s neck, breathing in the scent of him – that delicious mix of his natural heady scent and aftershave – he let himself calm down, the tension easing. He knew he needed to tell Ben what he’d been thinking and doing for the last couple of weeks. In his heart of hearts he knew Ben wouldn’t judge him. He only wanted to help him, the way Callum had helped Ben so many times. That was the part of his brain he needed to remember to listen to. 

Not being able to see Ben’s eyes helped, and he clung onto him tight so he couldn’t make eyes contact and began to talk. 

“When I was a kid my weight changed a lot. I had to eat whatever I could, when I could cos I had no idea when I’d next get the chance. Dad wasn’t big on the weekly shop, just bought himself some crates and maybe ready meals if we were lucky. All I ever really got to eat was junk food – crisps, sweets, things I could shoplift easy or pinch off my mates. And it made me chubby. I’d go through phases of being massive, everyone laughing at me and taking the mick, and then I’d get a growth spurt and be slim again. It was awful, I hated my body. The army helped, and I’ve been pretty much the same weight since I was about twenty.” 

Ben listened in silence, hands rubbing Callum’s back soothingly. His heart hurt to think of Callum having to go through bullying and teasing the way he had, and spending his childhood searching for his next meal. It was so wrong. Phil would never win any parenting prizes but at least Ben had never gone hungry. 

Callum took a deep breath and let his mind focus on more recent events. 

“And with you, I – I’ve always felt so comfortable. You made me like myself, and I got too comfortable, and then there were some comments, that I ate too much, weighed too much and that insecurity came rushing back.” 

“What comments?” Ben asked, anger coiling in his stomach. Someone had made Callum, his beautiful Callum, feel insecure and ashamed. His blood boiled. “Callum, who said that?” 

Ben pulled away from Callum to fix his boyfriend with a hard stare, brows knitted together in a frown. Whoever they were he was going to kill them. Nobody made his boyfriend feel bad, nobody. 

As soon as their eyes met Callum looked away, swallowing thickly. “It doesn’t matter.” 

A hand cupped his jaw and turned his face back to Ben’s. “Yes it does, Callum. Nobody is allowed to make you feel bad about yourself.” A few seconds ticked by in a tense silence, Ben almost growling the demand “Tell me.” 

“It was you.” 

Ben let go of Callum and reared backwards to lean on the desk, heart dropped to his stomach. The resignation and guilt on Callum’s face spoke volumes. He’d done this. He’d broken his boyfriend. 

“You didn’t mean it, I know that really - deep down, but at the time it just hurt cos it was what people used to say when I was a kid and you’re so beautiful and I thought you meant it – I know you didn’t I swear – but I just wanted to be worthy of you. So, I just ate a bit less than normal so I could lose weight. It’s really not a big deal, it barely even matters. But then Jay found out and he took it badly and then I couldn’t tell you because I knew you’d just tell me that I was gorgeous and you’d feel guilty and I don’t wanna make you feel bad I’m sorry, Ben I’m sorry.” 

Out of breath Callum finally stopped, face flushed as it all poured out of him. Did that even make sense? He didn’t dare look at Ben’s face, convinced that his boyfriend not only felt guilty but now thought he’d lost all ability to articulate himself. Which, he kind of had. 

Ben’s brain whirred as he tried to process and comprehend the flood of words that had rushed from Callum’s lips. A response was not forthcoming. He’d made Callum feel like this, afraid and ugly. It curdled his stomach and set off the evil little voice in his head that told him this was proof Callum was better off without him. 

“Ben...?” 

Callum’s nervous, quiet voice broke through Ben’s thoughts and he blinked, focusing on the anxiety ridden figure in front of him. 

“Babe, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” He said, deciding that was the most important thing to fix. He wouldn’t allow Callum to feel guilty on top of everything else. “I – I never meant to make you feel bad about yourself. You’re gorgeous and sexy, I thought you knew that. And I’m sorry I’ve not told you enough.” 

Callum opened his mouth to argue against the statement but closed it. Waves of tiredness were washing over him and all he wanted to do was sleep. 

“Can we go home?” He asked. Before Ben could respond a long yawn escaped him and his eyes dropped closed. 

Ben chuckled at him and stopped down so Callum could pull himself up using his shoulder for leverage. On his feet Callum clung to Ben, still feeling weak and dizzy. He couldn’t believe he’d let himself get into such a bad state. 

“Come on, let’s get you home.” 

They left, Callum leaning against the wall whilst Ben locked up, and slowly made their way across the now dark and empty square. 

“What time is it?” Callum asked, confused. The last time he’d checked it had been a bit after lunchtime. 

“Just gone nine.” Ben replied with a glance at his watch. “When I found you, you looked like you’d been running for ages, and you had a panic attack for a really long time. And even when you came out of it you weren’t really aware of anything for a while.” 

“Oh.” 

They walked in silence after that, Callum barely able to force his feet to move. His body felt heavy, like he was treading water. When they got into the flat Callum felt as though the stairs he had climbed were a mountain, his legs like jelly. 

Ben deposited him on the sofa and knelt down to untie Callum’s shoes. 

“You don’t have to-" Callum started. 

“Callum.” Ben’s voice was firm as he worked at the double-knot Callum had tied his laces with. How the hell did he get these things off? It didn’t seem feasible that someone could tie shoelaces this tight. “Just let me take care of you, please.” 

Recognising the desperation and guilt in Ben’s voice Callum acquiesced and allowed himself to sink into the plush cushions of the sofa. 

The next thing he knew Ben was gently shaking him, holding a plate with a round of toast. When the scent of the toast hit him, his stomach rumbled and he stared at the plate. 

“Ben, I don’t – I’m really tired, let’s go to -" 

“Babe,” Ben interrupted, placing the plate onto Callum’s lap and sinking down on the sofa beside him. “Please, just eat it. For me?” 

Callum’s gaze darted from Ben’s to the toast and back. His stomach was practically screaming at him, but the thought made him want to throw up. 

“Callum, you’re allowed to eat, okay? I promise, I’ll still love you, you’ll still be beautiful and sexy after. Just, please, please eat it, for my sake if nothing else.” 

Taking a deep breath, Callum picked up the toast, and raised it to his mouth. He looked at it for a second, glancing at Ben’s encouraging smile then taking a bite. 

“That’s great babe. Well done, I’m so proud of you.” Ben beamed, rubbing his shoulder. The encouragement and pure happiness painting Ben’s face helped Callum bring the toast up for another bite. With Ben’s encouraging words and support Callum slowly made his way through the slice until it was gone. He paled as his mind raced to inform him of how many calories were in that piece of bread, of all the progress he’d just undone when Ben put the plate on the coffee table and took his hands. 

“Don’t do that to yourself Callum.” He said. Callum looked into his eyes and it felt like Ben was almost begging him. “I can see you judging yourself. Don’t. You’re perfect. I’m so proud of you baby.” 

Tears filled his eyes and started to come down his cheeks for what felt like the millionth time. Ben smiled at him and pulled him into his chest, letting him cry silently, his body lacking the energy to sob. 

Eventually the tears dried, and they made their way to bed, Callum still insisting on putting on a t-shirt and shorts to sleep in. Ben frowned before reminding himself that this was going to take time. He couldn’t just snap Callum out of the harmful mind-set, no matter how much he wished he could. They slid beneath the covers, Callum turning to face the wall and Ben pulling him close. 

Within seconds Callum was snoring softly, exhaustion knocking him out. Ben stayed awake long into the night, watching him sleep for a long while, and then turning his attention to his phone. Into the search engine he typed _How to help someone with an eating disorder_ and clicked on the NHS link at the top of the page. 

He took in the words, formulating a plan in his head. Now that he knew exactly what the problem was he was going to put every bit of him into supporting Callum through this. The fact that Callum had suffered because of something he’d said - that he couldn’t even remember saying – stung deeply, but he understood that Callum needed him right now. 

Finally, he put his phone on charge and laid down, snuggling into Callum’s back, one arm wrapped around his boyfriend’s waist. As sleep tugged at him, he pressed a kiss to Callum’s hair and whispered a quiet vow. 

“I’m going to help you through this baby. I’ll be by your side every step of the way, I promise. I love you so much, Callum. I’ll be right here with you, always, my beautiful, perfect man.” 

Sleep took him, his last conscious thought being a silent prayer to any entity out there that he could make good on his promise. Because it had to be enough. 

In his sleep Callum turned over and pulled Ben closer. Even unconscious, he knew he was going to be okay, because he had Ben. 

He had Ben, and they’d get through his recovery. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. 
> 
> * I do not think Callum/Tony Clay is overweight or fat in any capacity - this story is about Callum's distorted view of his body. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought - comments and kudos are always appreciated! 
> 
> Have a great day!


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